


Grim and Fatalistic

by Journeys_of_an_Egghead



Series: The Wolf who burned the Sun [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Making Out, POV Solas, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Journeys_of_an_Egghead/pseuds/Journeys_of_an_Egghead
Summary: Their stay at the Winter Palace ends differently that Solas had imagined...





	

Solas muffles a groan as Lavellan’s tongue plays at his collarbone, sending lightning dancing through his body. He shouldn’t. He could not fully give himself to her, not while he was still deceiving her. Not while he is certain that they have no future and she isn’t. Not while she does not even truly know him. A part of him protests at that. She does know him. More than most people he had met in his entire, centuries-long existence. Still, it wasn’t right. She deserved … But the thought is cut short as she recaptures his mouth again, in a feverous blend of lips and teeth and tongue that scrabbles his mind and he can’t keep his hands from tightening their grip on her backside. How had he gotten himself into this position? Not physically speaking, of course, he knew exactly how he had ended up here, bare chested, pinned against the wall, her arms and legs twined around him, moving ever closer to the ornate Orlesian bed with slow but pronounced progress.

They had danced.

It started so innocently, so pure. Her hand had been in his as his arm draped around her waist. Solas had enjoyed sharing this moment with her, this incredible intimacy that was still surreal, still somewhat frightening. And yet he had cast all his doubts, all his walls aside in favor of losing himself in the way their bodies moved in harmony, heaving and sinking, ebbing and flowing, so in tune with the music that he could have sworn their hearts beat in its rhythm. It was freeing and enticing, utterly captivating. And it was dangerous. There had been a wanting hunger in her eyes, a daring smirk on her lips, and his hand started slipping further and further down her back, pulling her ever closer so he could feel the shift of her body against his, as they brushed with every breath. It had ended all too soon, their closeness a lingering echo that was near enough to hear but far enough to tune out. He had convinced himself it was better this way. It allowed him to regained his mask, to reconstruct his facade.

But then she had leant in and kissed him.

The schemes, the machinations, the courtly intrigue had all been so familiar, so liberating, and so intoxicatingly tempting. Something inside him had taken over then, set free by her lips, something that was always there, but he had to damper, had to control. The part of him that was raw emotions and pure desire, the part of him that was deeply entangled with who he used to be. With Fen'Harel. He prized himself on being wise and experienced now, as opposed to the cocky hot-head of his youth, in control of his feelings, in control of his desires, but somehow she always seemed to wash everything else from his mind, to utterly consume him. It was dangerous, but he couldn’t seem to stop playing with fire. Couldn’t walk away, not when she was so warm, so illuminating. She had opened his eyes to the beauty of this world, to the validity of these people. It changed everything, but it shouldn’t, it couldn’t, and yet every day he came closer to telling her the truth. Of throwing away everything, his entire world, the hope of the elves, all of his plans, for her. It was a devastating choice. Either way, he would lose, either way, an entire world would suffer and either way was incredibly selfish. Telling her would be a gamble. At best, he could hope for her shocked acceptance and forgiveness, at worst he could lose her as well. No, that would not be the worst outcome. Not by far. There was a thought, a quiet fear he did not like to contemplate. She was a Dalish, raised with legends of lost glory, that were, for the most part, misguided and belittling, but still undeniably inspiring. Elvhenan was many things, and had suffered greatly under the tyranny of the Evanuris, but it was also breathtakingly beautiful, and so much more than she could ever imagine it to be. How would she react if she knew that the world of her dreams had existed, and that it could rise again? That her people did not have to struggle to survive but thrive and even reclaim their immortality? Would wish to join in his plan? What would she be willing to sacrifice for such a paradise? The very thought was haunting. It was something he could never allow. He would not wish the path he was taking on his worst enemies, and certainly not on the woman he loved.  
He should let her go. He would let her go. Someday. As much as it pained him, it was the only viable option. 

He was no gambler anymore.

Her hands trail to his breeches and he stops them gently, wrapping his fingers around her wrists. Their eyes meet, and the look she gives him is so loving, so gentle it nearly shatters him. But he can also see the desire, the want, burning so clearly in her features. He takes a steadying breath, a shaky influx of air.

“I am sorry,” is all he manages to whisper, then releases his hold on her, stepping away from her incredibly tempting warmth, and the Inviting light her eyes, and instead heads towards the door.

“Wait,” she breathes but doesn’t move to stop him.

He doesn’t hesitate, if he would, he might not make it out of this room.

“I know there’s something you won’t tell me,” she says, when he has his hand around the cold handle, and he can hear her hurt under the mask of calmness. The words cut right through him. He freezes.

Solas can hear her move closer, her bare steps soft on the hard floor. His mind screams at him, ordering him to leave, to move, to walk away, but he remains glued to the spot.  
He still doesn’t face her. But she is pacing, slowly coming around to face him. “Something is on your mind, always on your mind and it’s holding you back,” she asserts. He tenses.

She noticed. Of course she noticed. How had he ever thought that he could hide that part from her? How had he ever thought that this could work? He tries to press the handle, he really does, but then she is in front of him, wedged between him and the door. She reaches out, cradling his face for a moment and he remembers. With her, he doesn’t seem to think. 

“I think, you already know that you can tell me anything,” she says and her smile is so tender, so honest he wants to pour his heart out to her. 

But he doesn’t. 

He just nods.

Her dimples deepen, but her eyes harden. “But what you apparently fail to realize,” she whispers “ is that you don’t have to.”

He simply stares at her, brows lifting.

“Whatever it is,” she says and her gaze softens “I’m sure you’ll tell me whenever you’re ready.”

He shifts, his body beckoning him towards her, his heart ringing in his ears. 

“But until then, don’t let it affect what we have right now,” she pleads and leans back, even further against the door, her hands drifting to her breast-band.

“If you don’t want to do this, or if you don’t feel ready, then tell me,” she encourages “it’s alright.”

Oh, that was certainly not the issue. 

His gaze dips, his eyes speaking for him, telling her something his lips could never say. 

She smirks.  
“But if you want this too, if you want me…” Her deft fingers tear at the band and it drops to the floor, exposing her bare breasts. “Then stay.”

For a moment, he doesn’t react. He doesn’t know how. A stream of conflicting emotions whirls through him and he realizes that he can’t let go. Can’t possibly leave. He wants her. Every moment they spend together is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he had already allowed it to progress so much further, so much deeper than was wise.  
And still…  
When he holds her in his arms, he doesn’t want to let go, and every time they kiss, he wants more, every time they touch, he wants more… It was a terrible idea, their whole relationship was a terrible idea really, one that would eventually hurt them both, but right now, looking into her gleaming, lust-filled eyes, his gaze tracing over the silhouette of her body, it seemed like the greatest idea he had ever conceived. Not that he had the best track record. She bites her lip and he follows the motion longingly. The thought of giving in, fully and unapologetically, is almost unbearably irresistible. He wants to lose himself in this moment, to loose himself in her. To give her pleasure, to offer her everything she wants, give into her every desire. Allow her moments of bliss, of happiness, of thoughtlessness, before she was once again forced to bare the weight of the world.  
Would that truly be so wrong? She knew he was hiding something, and she accepted it. Could that possibly be enough?

No.

He practically slaps himself internally. No, this was still wrong. Knowing what he knew, being who he was - it would not be fair to her. None of this was. 

“It is not that simple. What if it would change everything?” he inquires “What if it would alter your perception of me completely?” his voice is so intense, his fear so apparent. And her expression is so soft, so understanding, so… compassionate. It shouldn’t be. He feels naked, vulnerable, huge chunks of his mask stripped away.

She doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I doubt that,” she reassures, and he could see on her face that she meant every word. “I know you Solas,” she says and her lips spread into a painfully loving smile. “Every day I get to witness how kind and caring and smart you are.” She tilts her head. “You can’t fake that, not for months, not when you spend most of your time traveling together, sleeping in tiny tents that offer little to no privacy, coming dangerously close to dying on the daily, walking and fighting until you are basically a puddle, exhausted and hungry, living mostly off of small rations, while your company complains about the weather…”  
She shakes her head and chuckles.

“Remind me again why you joined?” she jokes.

It was a harmless comment, a well-meant jest, but it cuts through his core. She continues, as if nothing happened, so oblivious to the truth. “I am not that selfless. If I had a choice, one that would not have resulted in the destruction of Thedas, I honestly would have left. But you didn’t. I think that proves…” She catches his expression and falls silent, and he knows she sees through him. He can see it in her eyes. She can see his reason for staying was not that simple. It is terrifying, to have her discover that part of the truth. However she reacts now will probably be a good indicator for how she would react to the whole story. To his surprise, she smiles, as if nothing happened, either ignoring or accepting it. It gives him a strange mix of relief and frustration.

“The moral of the story is,” she starts, her tone a bit too bright, “traveling under such trying circumstances, I have come to appreciate shemlen comforts.” Her voice drops lower. “And I really want to get the most out of this bed.”

He can’t help but chuckle, a release of his tension. Her eyes light up at the sound, but then her expression shifts, turning a bit more serious and earnest. “I have done terrible things, Solas, my path is littered with bad decisions. There is no shortage of people who would call me a monster.”

He opens his mouth to protest, to defend her but she isn’t done speaking.

“Who you were, whatever it is you did in the past, it doesn’t matter,” she says, with unwavering conviction and adds with a smirk “at least not enough to deter me from this…”  
She runs her fingers over his chest. 

His body reacts involuntarily, and he shudders slightly, which only serves to fuel her. She almost pounces on him, claiming his mouth in a feverish kiss, not teasing or tentative but rough and urgent, a hungry demand. Her breasts slam against his chest and he seemingly loses all focus. Somehow, he finds himself once again pressed against a wall.  
He lets his hands wander and she smiles against his lips. He curses in his mind. He still has too much to say…

“What if this will not last?” he blurts out, his mind trying desperately to hold on to the reason why he wanted to stop her, stop this. Which is getting decisively harder every second.

She curls her lips, but her smile is heavy with the weight of experience. To think that he will add to that mountain of loss and pain is devastating. “Nothing lasts,” she says simply and resumes her exploration.

Her body dances, shifting against him. He doesn’t actively reciprocate, but certainty does nothing to object, nor deter her. He simply holds her, drunk on the feelings she elicits from him using her lips, her teeth, her tongue and her long, refined, fingers. His mind is dazed, but he knows he shouldn’t let this happen, so without thinking, he gives voice to one of his biggest fears. 

“I do not want you, to think” he sighs his groan as she rocks her hips against him “back on this night with regret.”

At that, she actually laughs. “Then don’t stop,” she moans.

Well… he could certainly do that. Her hands start traveling ever down, undeterred, as his begin tracing her spine. Every passing second makes it harder to think, but he cannot allow himself to surrender to her, not yet. He still has to say...  
He parts his lips.  
He wants to tell her to believe him, to know, without a doubt, in her bones, that no matter what the future will hold, what they had was real, and that he meant every word, every touch, every kiss. But instead he only manages to mumble “This will haunt us both.”

She hums.  
“So grim and fatalistic … ” Solas stifles a moan as she purrs in his ear. “Is it weird that I find it strangely…” the sound vibrates against him, sinking into his flesh “animating?” She nips at his earlobe, teeth sharp and teasing against his sensitive skin.

_Fenhedis._

Her fingers tug at his belt and with a groan, he gives in.


End file.
